Turn 132

"Get some more guards up here at once!"
    While waiting for them to arrive, he hurries back to the mirror chamber for a moment, as if to reassure himself of its security. Four men puff up the final flight a moment later, exclaiming over the treacherous top step.
    "Stand guard here while I see to His Lordship," he snaps. "Get some more men, I want every door guarded. If you see or hear anything the slightest bit unusual, report it at once. I will return soon."
    And with that, he takes a lamp from the table and stalks down the stairs with care and as much dignity as a man can wear while his plans appear to be suffering from a sudden invasion of wrenches in the gears.
    Ibn Fadil drifts after him, absolutely soundless.
    By the time they reach the lower landing where Durrell came to rest after his tumble, the lord is gone. The priest continues down the stairs, which go on below ground level, moving much more quickly now that no one can see him rush.
    He pauses once, head cocked as if at a sound; ibn Fadil freezes and lets him get a bit farther ahead before continuing to follow, even more cautiously than before. On the first subterranean level is a door, beyond which he can hear what sounds like a number of armed men moving about and talking, but they go on down past it. The stair debouches at last in a cavernous space two levels under the fortress. The glow of the lamp moves toward a distant wall and then disappears.
    The half-elf continues forward, his sensitive eyes probing the darkness, and listening for all he's worth.
    The wall looks quite blank. Since he already knows there must be a door there, it doesn't take long to find the trigger for it. Beyond it lies a sort of small vestibule, which narrows into a dark passage winding through the rock. He can make out the barest hint of light from the retreating lamp. This is the same side of the pass as that ominous crevice to which they had earlier tracked the spider.
    Within the vestibule sits a pair of iron wolf statues, one on each side, facing each other. Odd place for such a decoration, surely....
    * * *
    Wincing inwardly at the sounds of violence below Lynden continues to follow the priest's movements from the deck. Clasping his hand as holding a weapon's handle he swings it, summoning his spiritual mace as he does so. {Spiritual Weapon}.
    He hesitates as the mace strikes him, but continues closing the distance toward the ship, and they can see his lips moving before a blast of sheer noise shakes the air. Nyala claps her hands to her ears, dropping her bow [stunned, 7 points], and Lynden feels the sound waves as a bruising impact [2 points],
    With the mace continuing to strike at the priest Lynden mutters a few words before closing and reopening his hand to reveal a blast of intense sunlight {Searing Light} with which he also attempts to hit the priest.
    More brilliance in the night, accompanied this time by a genuine scream as light and mace make their impact. The priest is now bloody, battered, burned, and beyond himself with rage. Casting wild glances back at the burning building, then forward again to the sinister hovering shape of the damselfly ship and the scrap metal his wolves are becoming under the weapons of the crew.
    Bullying hapless townfolk does little to prepare one for a pitched battle against a number of well-prepared foes. He retreats, fumbling with something in a belt pouch, a container which he puts to his mouth. Some of the burn marks disappear, but he backs off further as he sees Nyala shake her head, the effects of his spell wearing off. He backs off further, perhaps weighing his odds with his master against those of resuming battle.
    Meanwhile, Emmett talks to Alais, "Do you want one still moving, or will this two part one do?"
    "Parts!"
    "Right!"
    Emmett yells "Captain, go get something from their stores and then let's finish this!" The giff nods and lumbers over to the building's door. He draws back a few paces, lowers his head and rushes at it with a roar as the impact shatters the heavy timbers. He ducks inside the low structure and reappears a moment later, every massive muscle straining as he pushes a low, wheeled framework and its burden -- a large black cylinder -- out into the rutted snow.
    Emmett braces himself against the remaining ones, buying Yestin time to gather up their prize. Making himself appear tired, he again waits for one of the beasts to snap at him, getting close enough for him to bring his spiked knee into the weaker armor underneath its neck before bringing the cutlass down point first through the things neck.
    The squeal of metal on metal as the cutlass cleaves through the creature's mechanical spine sounds disturbingly like a whimper from the canines these things mimic, while the screech as the blade is quickly withdrawn echoes an angry yelp. The cutlass still point downward in his hand, Emmett drops to one knee as the remaining wolf attacks him from behind, swinging the blade back and up with his half-human strength as his previous opponent's mainspring winds down with a fearful rush.
    A noisy moment later, both mechanisms are still, one leaking oil onto the ground, the other impaled on Emmett's blade.
    "Never mind, I've got a reasonably whole one!"
    More ropes are dropped over the side; a few minutes later crew and loot are safely aboard the ship.
    

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